


In your eyes I see someone I know

by fanficloverme96



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, M/M, Past Scallison, everyone deserves to be happy, i'm too upset about allison, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:04:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1361710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficloverme96/pseuds/fanficloverme96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I do go by Stiles, sometimes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In your eyes I see someone I know

It’s been 16 years.

16 years and everything was the same.

Derek Hale, now 40, sat at his usual spot in the corner of the library, casually thumbing through the pages of the book, never really reading the words. There was a crushed Styrofoam cup, once filled with coffee that tasted really bitter but felt really warm in his throat, in his right hand. His glasses perched on his nose and he placed the cup onto the table to adjust his glasses.

It’s been the same, every year.

His phone rang, breaking the stillness of the library. Ignoring the disapproving look of a nearby librarian, he reached into the pockets of his old, ratty jeans that are about five years old and tearing apart but Derek loved it too much to throw it away, and fished out his phone.

“Scott,” he said.

“How’d you know it was me?” asked the boy on the other line. Scott was no longer a boy, though.

“Caller ID,” Derek replied simply and winced when he heard a baby wailing in the background, “How’s Kira?”

“Ah, um, she’s fine. Daphne’s making a fuss, though, so her hands are pretty full right now.” There was a shushing sound and Scott saying reassuring words to their daughter which only made her cry harder, before there was a sound of footsteps and the noise gradually dying down. “Listen, I need to ask you for a favor, man.”

Derek flipped to the next page, despite having only read the first word of the previous one. “What is it?”

“Kira and I are gonna be away for a week in two days. Her parents are in Michigan now, and they said they want me and her to visit. Something important came up, I guess. I’d bring Daphne along but Mrs. Yukimura said children aren’t allowed where they live.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “And where exactly is that?”

“Somewhere sacred, I guess. She didn’t elaborate. Anyway,” Scott took a deep breath, “Since you’re gonna be in town for two more weeks before you head back to New York, I was wondering if you could look after her for us.”

There was a beat. Derek sighed before closing the book and balancing the phone onto his shoulder so he could use both hands to carry the pile of books he took. “I don’t know, Scott. I’m never really good with children. Can’t you ask one of your pack members to do it?” he said before realizing, wait, isn’t he one of his pack members? Damn.

“ _You’re_ in my pack, Derek,” Scott pointed out, voicing Derek’s thoughts, “Isaac’s busy with his Master thesis and you know I can’t ask the Sheriff. He’s um…” Derek could feel Scott’s hesitation. “He’s gonna be preoccupied.”

Derek’s gaze dropped to the floor. Of course. It’s nearly _that_ day. No one wanted to bother the Sheriff on that particular day, not even after 16 years.

He heaved a heavy breath. “Fine. I’ll look after her. Just don’t blame me if she starts crying for the whole week.”

“Thanks, man!” Derek could hear the smile in Scott’s voice, so much that he smiled himself. 32 years old or not, Scott was the same old Scott. Even though Allison’s death had hit him hard and made him slightly sullen and serious, underneath it all, he was the same as he was when he was a teenager.

It took Scott a long time to really recover from her death and the healing process changed something within him, but Scott was Scott—the same kind-hearted Scott who until now still had things to learn as an alpha even with his massive improvement over the years—and Derek was glad for it.

He hung up and walked towards the door. He was middle of getting his umbrella from the rack when the door opened and a boy rushed in. The bright red parka he wore was a startling contrast to the otherwise dark coloring of the library and his wet sneakers squeaked against the wood panel floor.

He was also crashing headfirst into Derek’s shoulder.

“Shit,” the boy cursed as he staggered back, “Sorry, sir.”

It was his voice that made Derek pause.

It was so similar-

And he turned to meet the boy’s eyes.

And the next several seconds felt as if they were slowed down.

It was-, it couldn’t be. It’s impossible, It’s—

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice barely escaped a gasp. The boy, who looked about 16, was a splitting image of Stiles, from the hair, his warm brown eyes right down to the moles on his pale skin. It was Stiles.

But it couldn’t be him.

The boy widened his eyes and tilted his head, looking unsure. “Um…the fact that you know my nickname is downright creepy, sir. To be honest.”

Derek blinked slowly. The boy went by Stiles, too. Seeing him, standing there, dripping wet from the downpour outside, cheeks stained pink from the cold and very much _alive_ , felt so surreal to him that Derek didn’t know how to react.

“Stiles—“ he choked, “How—why. You can’t be here. You can’t be—“

Stiles raised his eyebrow. “Here?” he echoed. “Sir, this is the public library. Anyone can be here. That’s why it’s called the _public_ library.” He tapped his foot, seeming slightly awkward. “Unless the public library of Beacon Hills had different rules than the ones in New York.”

“Alive,” Derek whispered at last, “Stiles Stilinski is alive.”

Because Stiles Stilinski wasn’t alive. Not 16 years ago. Not during that night where everything was cold and dark and the ground stained with blood just like Derek’s claws. Not when Scott stared on in complete shock, having already collapsed to his knees.

 Not when the nogitsune tricked Derek into killing Stiles instead of him. Not when Stiles lay in Derek’s arms, lips stained with blood, eyes open staring at him blankly and his body growing cold with each passing second.

Not seconds after Stiles had managed to choke out “I—ove—ou,” which should have not made sense but it did.

It did.

Stiles couldn’t be alive. And yet here he was.

The Stiles standing in front of him shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable now. “Um…I don’t know who you lost, and whoever he was must have shared my nickname and looked similar to me, but er…sir.” He took a deep breath. “My last name’s Twombly. Not Stilinski.”

And time began to start for Derek again.

He took in the Stiles standing in front of him. He was a splitting image of the Stiles he once knew, but when he looked closer, the Stiles in front of him held no recognition in his eyes. He was staring at Derek and in no doubt regarded him as nothing more than a stranger. He also wore a kind of seriousness in his features that Stiles Stilinski didn’t have. The glasses he wore further enhanced the effect.

He looked like Stiles. He went by Stiles.

But he’s not Stiles.

Derek would know. Of course he would.

 _“Ever heard of reincarnation, Derek?”_ his mom had asked many years back, one Saturday afternoon when everything was peaceful. _“It happens every once in a while, you know, Especially if the soul had a strong attachment to someone or something before it passed on.”_

Of course. Stiles was too stubborn to leave even in death.

Derek smiled, although it took effort and the edges of his smile trembled because he’s trying not to cry because Stiles is _alive_ , even if it’s not really him.

“Sorry,” Derek said, “It’s been a misunderstanding. Sorry I took your time, Stiles. I mean, er…”

Stiles shook his head, cutting him off. “It’s okay. And it’s Stuart, by the way. But I do go by Stiles sometimes.” He looked thoughtful about it. “Just really like the name.”

“I like it, too,” said Derek before he could stop himself. He coughed as Stuart stared at him owlishly for the comment and rubbed his head. “Right. Um. I guess I’ll go now.”

Stuart nodded. “Um, okay. It was nice meeting you, sir.”

Derek paused by the doorway and gave Stuart a tiny smile.

“It’s Derek. Derek Hale.”

* * *

 

*

It’s 11.05 pm when Scott’s phone buzzed. The message that popped onto the screen was short.

_“Hey Scott. I’m thinking of staying in Beacon Hills a little while longer.”_

**Author's Note:**

> No sterek for the past eleven episodes. I'm desperate.
> 
> @soverylouvely on Twitter.


End file.
